Desperate Measures
by WriterJC
Summary: Something appears in the sky over Atlantis ... and changes everything. GEN, Team, with a smidge of Keller. Please read warnings inside.


**WARNINGS: **I'm placing the warnings at the top, though they are slightly spoilerish so that no one will accidentally read this who doesn't want to. There is character death in this story . . . kind of. They do all live in the end.

**Author's Notes:** This story was written for the Flashfic Picture Challenge at Sheppard_hc over on Livejournal. You'll have to login over their to see the image as ff dot net is not so inclined to add links. Another alternative is to check it out on my livejournal. My user name over there is the same as it is here. I owe huge thanks to Michelel72 and Sharpes_hussy as well. Thanks ladies!

**Characters:** Team, some Keller

**Summary:** Something appears in the sky over Atlantis . . . and changes everything.

* * *

**D E S P E R A T E * M E A S U R E S **

"Rodney, time's up!" John yelled as he ran along the cluttered corridor toward the large room that passed for a jumper bay. Shattered equipment, makeshift parts, and stains marred the floor and walls along the way, but he refused to look at any of it. Focusing too closely was too sharp a reminder of the friends who'd died there.

John never just walked through the halls anymore.  
"No. I need more time. It's too soon." Rodney's frantic words reached him even before John stopped at the bottom of the cobbled-together jumper's ramp. John slowed his pace as he made his way inside, careful to avoid the contraption that took up much of the crew compartment.

"It's now or never." John stepped back out onto the ramp, giving the cluttered room a once-over as he listened to the distant sound of weapons firing. The few remaining barriers weren't going to last much longer. He moved back into the jumper.

"But I'm not done yet." Rodney's hands were moving frantically as he worked with the exotic technology, his voice softened with desperation. And still he didn't look up, using even those few seconds to try to complete an impossible task.

John made the mistake of focusing too closely on the faint trembling when Rodney reached to retrieve a tool from the bench. One mistake became a landslide. Next he saw the sallow skin and the filthy clothing and the growing gauntness of the man before him. Rodney McKay deserved better than this. They all deserved better than this.

Struggling against the ache that threatened to overtake him, John moved in closer and rested a hand on the other man's arm. "This is it, Rodney. We've got to do it now."

Rodney's movements stilled and he looked up at John, his bloodshot eyes glassy with gathering pain. He shook his head, and his mouth formed the word 'no', but he didn't say it. Then, straightening his shoulders, he cleared his throat. "I heard the weapon firing. I hoped . . . ."

John clenched his jaw, holding tightly to his control. Rodney's expressive eyes showed that he understood the things that John couldn't say.

But that didn't stop John from remembering, from recalling the faces of those who had given their lives to cover his escape. It didn't stop him from knowing that he had let them do it.

"They're really gone? Did they . . . ?"

John shook his head sharply, answering before Rodney could finish asking the question. They hadn't suffered like so many had done. How screwed up was it that his only consolation was that at least in this instance, it had been quick?

"It's time." He forestalled any further questions. "Whatever you've done, it's going to have to be enough or none of this will matter. Anything changed about the way we need to do this?" John felt more comfortable talking about the mission. That way he could avoid considering what he would have to do next.

"Nothing's changed," Rodney assured him, though his eyes were wide and terrified. "But, like I said, it isn't done. It's going to be rough, especially on reentry."

John nodded. "We've done rough before."

"Wait. One more thing." Rodney ran down the jumper's ramp. The limp that he'd acquired weeks earlier was clearly in evidence. It was another thing John wished he could wipe away.

He moved tensely after Rodney, wanting to hurry him along, when Rodney suddenly reappeared at the bottom of the ramp displaying a small case. "It's just finished downloading. Without this, we—"

A beam of red-orange light disrupted the air and exploded against Rodney's lower back. His eyes widened in shock as he stared into John's eyes.

John ran forward, finding the hovering seeker-weapon on instinct. It disintegrated into a million tiny pieces under a barrage of bullets from his P-90. He had moments before more would come.

He dropped to his friend's side. "Come on, Rodney. We have to go!" He tried to get the other man to his feet, but Rodney didn't want to be moved.

"Go," Rodney whispered, pressing the case into John's hands. "Go, before you ... screw up my ...genius plan."

"Rodney ...."

"Go, John." Rodney struggled for breath. "Please." His eyes dimmed as he breathed his last.

John didn't think anymore. He could only act. The steps back into the jumper were a blur. And if he slammed his fist into the ramp control harder than was necessary, there was no one there with him to care.

~*~

Teyla suppressed a shiver. The evening was cool. It was one of those early autumn nights when the days were noticeably shorter and cooler temperatures began to take hold. Still, the team had by unspoken agreement chosen to take a late meal on the balcony outside of the mess hall. There was something unaccountably beautiful in the way the dark expanse of the ocean melded into the black sky with its myriad spots of light.

The meal over, Rodney set a tray of cupcakes on the table. He was actively working to try to get John to take one and to prevent Ronon from eating the one he'd already taken. John insisted that he didn't want one; Ronon offered to eat two of them.

"You cold?" Teyla looked up at the question from John. He must have caught the motion that she'd tried to suppress.

"I will be fine," she assured him, though she ran her hands up and down her arms, to add warmth to the chilled flesh.

"Here. Take my jacket." John began to shrug out of his jacket, revealing the black t-shirt underneath.

"Will you not be cold?" she asked.

"Yes, he'll be freezing. Take mine instead." Rodney began to unzip his own jacket.

"What is that supposed to mean?" John demanded, handing his jacket across the table to Teyla.

"That you hardly have enough meat on you as it is," Rodney said, taking John's jacket and tossing it back at him, before thrusting his own toward her.

"What? Your panties are all in a bunch because I don't want a cupcake?" John taunted.

"I'm just saying. You've got to be on the low end of healthy."

John ignored Rodney and smiled across the table at Teyla. "Whose jacket would you like?"

Teyla shared a look with Ronon. "Perhaps I should return to my quarters and get my own jacket?"

"No, you can't do that. You'll break up the celebration," Rodney insisted.

"We're celebrating?" Ronon seemed to perk up.

"Come on, seriously, none of you realize what today is—well, this Earth day?" Rodney's look was incredulous.

"Rodney, you do realize that the days here don't exactly match up to the days on Earth, right?"

"I realize that there are a different number of hours in the day, Colonel. My IQ is higher than yours, after all."

"How do you know your IQ is higher than mine?" John challenged.

Rodney sputtered. "What - "

Teyla interrupted what would likely be another argument. It had been a long day, and despite enjoying time with her team, she was ready to return to her quarters for some much needed downtime. "What is today, Rodney?"

"It was on this day—this Earth day—three years ago that we all went on our first mission together as a team. The last couple of years, we were knee-deep in some fight for our lives. This time, we're all here on Atlantis; nobody's injured or missing. I thought that deserved some recognition."

Teyla's heart warmed. Rodney was so often brusque that when he showed his caring, one was often broad-sided.

"That is a lovely thought, Rodney," Teyla smiled at him, covering one of his hands with her own. He looked downward, embarrassed.

"Definitely something to celebrate." John reached for one of the cupcakes and held it aloft.

"Yeah. I guess I like all you guys, too," Ronon said, with mischief in his eyes. "Does that mean I can have a cupcake now, McKay?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Rodney's face reddened further, but there was affection and happiness in his gaze.

"Maybe we should have one of these for every year," Ronon said around a mouth full of cake and icing. "Next year, we should each get four."

The laughter that echoed around the table was disrupted by a distant whooshing. A blue-white flash appeared against the starry sky. Immediately the flash resolved into a distant object that glowed red-hot and began to tumble out of control. A long, worrying trail of smoke followed in its wake.

Fear settled in the pit of Teyla's stomach. The flaming object had a very familiar form.

"Control room? Yeah, I see it. Please tell me that wasn't a jumper." John was speaking on his radio as four sets of chair legs scraped away from the table.

~*~

John examined the HUD as he piloted the jumper over the dark roiling surface of the ocean. A red indicator flashed as they quickly closed the distance to their destination.

Whatever had crash-landed out there was shielded in some unusual way, but every measurement Rodney and the scientists had managed to throw at it in the minutes since it had appeared in New Lantea's airspace suggested that it was most likely a puddle jumper. But there had been no attempted hails from the ship and no emergency beacons. That hadn't changed any since they'd been in the air.

"You getting anything yet, Rodney?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Nothing." Rodney sounded disgusted. "It's almost like whoever sent this thing knew exactly the protocols Atlantis—and by Atlantis, I mean I —would use to scan it, and purposely blocked most of them. I can't even tell if there are life signs."

"So, you think it's a trap?" Ronon's deep voice echoed across from Rodney.

John didn't like the sound of that, but it was a good possibility. He'd learned the hard way that anything was suspect. Either way, they had to check it out.

"What might such a trap hope to accomplish?" Teyla asked. "It is one small vessel and it is some distance from the city."

"I think we're about to find out," John said as he slowed the jumper. Whatever it was had cut a swath through the trees not too far from the water's edge. The full moons showed a clear path of destruction through the forest. The mottled mess of the sand suggested that not only had whatever it was slewed toward the water; it had tumbled a couple of times as well. It now rested half in the ocean.

It was definitely a jumper—one that looked like it had been beaten all to hell.

The flame-out appeared to have happened in one of the engine pods. A massive amount of smoke was still billowing out of it and being blown toward the forest by the wind.

"Everyone ready back there?" John called to the squad of marines who were keeping Dr. Keller company in the crew compartment. "We'll be on the ground in under a minute."

To a chorus of affirmatives, John put a little breathing room between his jumper and the intruder's before he landed. Once on the ground, he gestured the marines to provide backup while he took point.

The front of the damaged ship was tilted into the surf, its forward window half under water. The back end was jutted slightly in the air where it had settled atop a portion of the engine pod that had at some point been sheared off.

Amazingly, the rear hatch looked completely undamaged.

The ramp lowered obediently when he activated it, revealing flickering lights and a light haze of a different kind of smoke. The ramp didn't settle completely to the ground. They would have to step up to get inside.

John moved a step closer. "Hello? Anyone home?"

There was no sound or movement from inside. Only the smell of burnt crystals and something else that he couldn't place flowed out toward him.

He looked toward Ronon and gestured that everyone else should wait before he took a cautious step up onto the ramp. It remained stable, so he proceeded forward.

Equipment was strewn everywhere. An especially large piece of it took up most of the floor space in the crew compartment. He wove his way around it in the unreliably flickering light, while also trying to make sure that he didn't miss any person-sized lumps. It was clear.

The bulkhead separating the forward compartment was closed, but it opened as easily as the ramp had. Unfortunately, the lights there weren't working at all. The control panel was completely dark. Only whatever light managed to make its way in from the portion of the forward window that wasn't underwater illuminated the area. But it was enough for him to know that all of the seats were empty.

He flicked on the P-90 light and played it over the space. It was when the light reached an area half under the pilot's seat that he stopped. The dark head was familiar, even though the face was hidden in shadow. He didn't need to see anything else to identify the person lying unmoving on the floor.

~*~

"What is it?" Rodney called into the jumper. Sheppard was staring at something on the floor. Ronon, who had moved to look around Sheppard's icicle impression, had frozen, too.

"Doc, we've got someone in here who may need your help," Sheppard called, backing out of the cockpit. Ronon stepped back out into the wrecked crew compartment with their team leader.

"Who is it? Is it anyone we know?" Rodney asked, surprised. All of the gene carriers in the city were accounted for. But then, so were the jumpers. So maybe that wasn't so helpful.

Sheppard didn't bother to answer his question, instead saying something Rodney couldn't hear to Jennifer as she approached the forward compartment. Rodney moved in closer as Sheppard then directed his P-90 light into the area.

Rodney squinted as Jennifer stooped low and reached past something in the crap lighting. He sucked in a breath as his brain registered a pale wrist. There was a very distinctive black band encircling it.

"Oh . . . ." He came to a sudden halt.

"Rodney, what is it?" Teyla moved around him and then stuttered to a stop as she saw what he saw.

"I could use a little help here," Jennifer called with a significant look toward Ronon. The big Satedan moved to the floor behind her, trying to help her remove the man from where he lay, lodged between the console and the pilot's chair.

"John?" Confusion was clear in Teyla's voice, but it was Rodney who then asked the obvious.

"Is that you?" He looked pointedly at Sheppard but gestured toward the man on the floor. An abundance of pale, bruised skin became visible as Ronon pulled him further out into the open.

"Technically, I'm me," Sheppard said, barely looking up as he continued to adjust the position of his light for Jennifer.

Rodney's gaze was drawn to where she worked, running practiced hands along legs that were stretched into the darkened portion of the ship. His mind registered that the Sheppard on the floor was wearing the US flag patch on his uniform shoulder. They only ever wore those in the city. Did that mean . . . ?

"Why don't you see what you can do about getting some better light in here?" Sheppard's voice interrupted Rodney's musings. "And while you're at it, maybe figure out where this jumper came from."

"Right." Rodney worked to focus his mind on the other problems at hand, because seriously, looking at a half-dead Sheppard double was not helping. He scanned the rest of the jumper, trying to get a handle on where to stand. His gaze settled on the very large something in the center of the floor.

He moved toward it, pushing what looked like all of the contents of the storage nets out of the way. He gasped as the device revealed itself in all its glory. "Oh my God."

"What?" Sheppard moved beside him. Rodney glanced upward and noticed that Teyla had taken over light shining duties. "What is it?"

Rodney was having trouble wrapping his mind around what was right in front of him, but it was the only thing that made sense.

"Rodney?" Sheppard's voice interrupted. There wasn't a lot of patience there.

Rodney wasn't fazed. "Based on the description from Old Elizabeth's story about what happened the first time we came to Atlantis and," he gestured toward the man that Jennifer and Ronon were leaning over, "present circumstances, I'll say that this jumper has a temporal drive."

"So you think he traveled here through time?" Sheppard asked.

"Well, technically, it's actually an alt—" Rodney wanted to make sure everyone understood the correct terminology, but Sheppard cut him off.

"Never mind. Is there any way to know for sure?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure. I'd be more interested in knowing why he's here. But that may take some time considering the mess . . . ." Rodney gestured at the rest of the jumper. It looked like it had been kludged together by someone with either too little time or too little finesse. It was no wonder systems were on the fritz.

"Do what you can." Sheppard patted his shoulder and moved toward the back of the jumper, directing the marines in some exercise or other.

~*~

Ronon could do little more than sit by and watch as Jennifer worked over the man sprawled on the floor between them. He'd seen a lot of things since he had joined Sheppard's team. The Replicator copies of the team had been weird; seeing the whole team dead on that alternate version of the Daedalus had been even weirder. And then there was the time the other McKay—Rod—had come through the thing from a parallel world. So he should have been at least a little bit used to this. But he wasn't. To him, it looked like his friend had been through hell, with the jury still out on whether he was going to make it back.

Dark spots of blood were already seeping through one of the bandages that Jennifer had put on his head, and even in the inadequate light of Teyla's P-90, this Sheppard looked too far gone toward the other side.

"You think he's going to make it?" he asked Jennifer as she put the finishing touches on the splint for the man's right arm.

She didn't raise her eyes all the way when she answered. "If he's like our John Sheppard, it's not over until it's over."

Ronon nodded and looked over his shoulder at Teyla before refocusing his attention on the man on the floor. He had a helluva lot more scars and his hair was grayer, but otherwise, he seemed just like their John Sheppard. And Jennifer's words were answer enough.

~*~

Teyla sat with John and Ronon in the outer infirmary while they waited for Jennifer to complete her examination of the man that they had rescued from the crashed jumper.

It was a strange feeling to worry so for a man who was essentially a stranger. Yet her eyes and her heart had difficulty separating him from her friend. Even injured and unconscious, he had exuded something indefinable that said he was their John Sheppard.

And yet, their John Sheppard sat alongside her, abnormally silent. He was obviously deeply lost in his own thoughts. She had a feeling that he sensed it too.

She looked beyond him to Ronon. The larger man's brow was furrowed, confirming her suspicion that he too had been thrown off kilter by recent events.

"What are we going to call him?" Ronon's deep voice cut through the silence.

Teyla thought the question was quite practical, but the expression it evoked on John's face was almost comical.

"We should call him by his name," John said finally, as if that were the only obvious answer to the quandary.

"Won't that get confusing?" Ronon pressed the issue.

"Shouldn't he be the one to decide?" John didn't seem comfortable with the line of questioning, clearly wanting it to end.

"Perhaps amongst ourselves, we could call him Shep?" she offered. "Short for Sheppard? It would not be unlike the way we referred to the alternate-universe Rodney."

John nodded jerkily. "Yeah. Okay. That sounds good."

Teyla offered him a small smile; there was little else she could do. They could only wait until they learned the outcome of the medical examination. It had been many hours since they had brought Shep back to the city, and she suspected that there would be more before they truly had answers.

~*~

John stood up at Keller's arrival. His two other teammates stood moments later, having dozed during the long wait. "What is it, doc?" he asked.

"We've confirmed a match on your DNA, Colonel. The man in that room is not a clone. He is you, appears slightly older. He's also in very bad shape."

John had expected that answer and still he didn't know how to feel about it. "What's his condition?" he asked. He could handle that. Maybe.

"Well, he needs surgery, only he's too weak right now. We're going to have to wait before we can do anything more. Right now, we're giving him antibiotics and other treatments to try to build up his strength."

John nodded, trying to digest that. "What are his chances?"

Keller's gaze locked on his. "He's awake and he wants to talk to you."

He looked at Ronon and Teyla, then back to Keller, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Just me?" he asked. He didn't like that she'd avoided the question.

"He was pretty insistent."

"All right, then. I guess I should go see what he wants."

John set off for the curtained-off section of the Infirmary, moving past the guards that he himself had stationed there. When he slipped past the curtain, the nurse, who was checking one of the machines, quietly slipped out of the area. He was left alone with his double.

He approached the bed, wondering why after so many years in the Pegasus Galaxy he was still weirded out by this kind of thing. But then again, how could someone really get used to walking into a room and seeing their double laid up on a gurney, hooked up to more machines and tubes than seemed conducive to continued life?

The surreal feeling only increased when the man on the bed opened eyes that looked like they'd seen a thousand kinds of pain. They were the same eyes John saw in the mirror every day.

"What should we call you?" The words were brusquer than he intended, making this sound like an interrogation.

The man on the bed studied him for several moments before he spoke in a low, strained voice. "Doesn't matter. Did Rodney find the crystal yet?"

John frowned. "What crystal?"

"He will," the other man said.

"You know Rodney, do you?" John asked.

"Don't you?" the man said.

John studied him for several moments, then—for the sake of orneriness, even if it was at his other self's expense—told him, "Team's decided to call you 'Shep'."

Something shifted in Shep's gaze, and then he coughed softly. John was pretty sure it was a chuckle, but he couldn't be sure. Which was even weirder, since ... well, this was supposed to be him.

"Whose idea was that?" Shep asked.

"Teyla's," John said.

The light died in Shep's eyes and he looked away, focusing on nothing. "Make sure Rodney finds the crystal, and make him do what it says."

"Why?" John asked. "What's so important that you're here? How far have you come? Is this all you wanted to tell me?"

"It doesn't matter how far. Just do what the crystal says and everything will be fine. You know how Rodney is. Make sure he does it." Shep was struggling to string so many words together. The beeps on the machine were starting to speed up and John was worried that if he didn't calm down, Keller would come in and put a stop to their little conversation.

Shep apparently realized it, too, and seemed to force himself to relax—as much as a man in pain and as beat up as he was could.

"Something happened to them, didn't it?" John asked. He didn't even need to say who they were. Shep knew.

"They all died, sav—"

"I found it!" Rodney charged into the room, Ronon and Teyla on his heels. He was smudged with ash and soot and brought the smell of the downed jumper with him. But it was the gleam in his eyes and the item that he held aloft that caught John's attention.

~*~

"It is a data crystal." Teyla was the one to state the obvious this time.

"Of course it is," Rodney said, staring at the Sheppard that was in the bed, hooked up to half the machines in the infirmary. "It's also a message in a bottle. Sent from me, to me."

"What does that mean?" Sheppard asked, and obviously his mood hadn't improved a lot. But Rodney could cut him some more slack.

"It means that you ... or rather, him," Rodney pointed to the man on the bed, "came back in time to repair what once went wrong. Really, very Quantum Leap of you."

"Call me 'Shep'," the Sheppard on the bed said. "And actually, it was your idea. You picked this day and time because it was one that stood out that we could all remember."

Rodney blinked. Their anniversary. Of course, it would make sense that he'd choose a time he could easily pinpoint. But there were so many more questions.

"What's on PX4-359? Why shouldn't we go there?" he asked, referring to the small amount he'd scanned on the crystal. What could be so bad that they would risk time travel to warn them? "And where did you find the temporal drive? And while we're on the subject, how did you convince the IOA to let you interfere with the timeline?" The more Rodney thought about it, the more questions he had.

Shep gifted him with one of those John Sheppard looks—the rare ones that always caught Rodney flat-footed. In an instant, every emotion he was feeling flashed clearly in his eyes before he managed to suppress it.

"PX4-359 is the home of a race of beings that we're not ready for. If you go there, you'll will wake them up."

"That's it?" Sheppard asked of his double. "We've faced some pretty tough odds before."

Shep's gaze shifted to Sheppard. "Not like this. It's a race that _you'll_ wake up—just by being there. It's a million deaths that don't have to happen. And unlike the Wraith, they'll have no problem making it to Earth." There were several moments of eye-play between the two men before Shep looked back at Rodney.

Rodney's mind was buzzing at the thought of beings that could do that kind of damage. "Who are they?"

"It's on the crystal," Shep said, then let out a breath that was more a sigh. His manner was slowing, like he was about to nod off on them the way Old Elizabeth had done on occasion.

"Yes, yes. I get it, look at the crystal. What kind of tech do they have? When are they going to wake up without our intervention?" Rodney had more questions. If this was so important, Shep shouldn't mind staying awake a little longer.

"It's a message to yourself, McKay. I'm sure you were thorough," Shep replied softly.

"What about the temporal drive?" Rodney was alarmed to note that skin that had just been pale earlier was leaning toward gray, but he needed to know more. "Where did you find it? The one on the jumper is shot and is frankly never ever going to work again."

Shep looked past him as if he hadn't heard the question and focused on Ronon and Teyla. There was something distant in his gaze. "Guys, thank you," he said, his voice so low and strained that Rodney half read his lips. The look in his eyes made Rodney's heart fall into his stomach.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, one of the machines began to shriek. Chaos erupted as Jennifer and her staff charged into the room. The team was hustled out to the sound of a defibrillator charging.

Jennifer yelled. "Clear!"

~*~

It was another cool night, but this time, Teyla had remembered to bring her jacket. She stood on the balcony with the rest of her team, watching as John stared at the small urn in his hands. His expression was unreadable.

"You know, you should probably let one of us do it," Rodney said. "I mean, how creepy is it to scatter your own ashes?"

"Are you calling dibs for when I die for real?" John asked.

Rodney's face fell. "No . . . that's not what I meant. I meant . . . ."

"I'll do it." Ronon held his hand out for the small stone container. When John gave it to him, he drew back and tossed it out over the ocean.

"Ronon—" Teyla tried to stop him, but it was too late. The urn sailed out into the clear night before splashing into the waters not far from the pier below.

"What?" Ronon looked confused.

"You were supposed to sprinkle them, not hurl the whole thing into the water!" Rodney objected.

John's mouth quirked into a grin. "It's okay. We're none of us going to die, anyway."

"What are you talking about?" Rodney demanded. "We lead dangerous lives. That's bound to catch up to us eventually."

"How can we when we have you?" John asked with a smug grin. "You're a genius, as you're constantly reminding us. I'm sure you'll work something out."

Rodney's grin matched John's. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll come up with some brilliant scientific solution to save the day _and_ the universe."

"And the team?" Teyla put in with a smile.

"Most definitely the team."

They all looked toward the sky, the stars brilliant in the night.


End file.
